


The Greatest Show Unearthed

by CovfefeGhost



Category: The Greatest Show Unearthed( Own Work)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Fantasy Creatures, Gen, Gratuitous Foreign Languages, Humor and Angst in equal proportions, Mythology References, Original Fiction, Religious Content, Southeast Michigan, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CovfefeGhost/pseuds/CovfefeGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curtis Van der Graaf is a cheerful, extraverted 14 year old boy living in the city of Brighton, Michigan, and he's starting high school in September of 2013. On an impulse visit to the mythical, supposedly haunted old Mortis house, he finds out that he has tremendous magic powers and is destined to fight forces from the Other Side,and is aided by a motley bunch:an overweight spider who was once ancient African nobiity,;a bitter ex-Viking who's shrouded in darkness;two Greenlandic brorhers;one smart, one strong; a sweet Finnish healer, and many more. One thing is certain: those fantasy books he read as a kid were more realistic than he thought!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Show Unearthed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curtis Van der Graf is an extraverted,cheery 14 year old boy living in Brighton,Michigan,who,among other things,has an interest in the paranormal. What happens when he and two friends decide to go ghost hunting in the Mortis House, their local haunted house?

The coarse dissonance of the heavy wax door opening in the submarine prison slammed against the captive's ears,and he shouted a few chosen curses as he unwillingly parted from his sleep.

“Let’s go,Karlsen,your trial is today,gotta get you all cleaned up and pretty,"the guard,a portly,dark man snarled heavily, and lifted up his helmet to sneer at the captive, a deplorable restless spirit whose acts were too terrible to even speak of. The prisoner sitting inside was completely covered in tar from a noble civilian who gallantly flung a boiling cauldron of pitch onto him, and with great rancor, he glowered at the intruder. The guard ignored him,and with repulsion from touching something so disgusting,yanked him off the floor, slapping him across the face, and dragging him from his cell for the final time.

\---

“Cacaw!The _attengangar_ ,Edgar Branvald Karlsen age 1,191, country of origin, Norway,I present to you,”announced a young woman with lightly lit violet eyes, pretty,rippling black hair,and a posture that showed a superior education developed over a millennia. Raven Pallas was a dignified Avis,a human who through an undefined breeding,could turn into the bird she took her name from,and she sat back down.”Cacaw!”

On the other side of the courtroom,majestically decorated and grand in size, sat a jury,and the topic of conversation among them concerned the trial that would certainly lead to the condemnation of a dreadful criminal.The doors were finally thrown open, and a figure was shoved in,a few elderly ladies of tender hearts fainting from the surely ghastly sight, though there was no horror to swoon at. Most had expected a man as deformed and hideous as the acts committed with his hands,but the pitch,when roughly scrubbed away,revealed a figure who deviated from such expectations.

Tall and gaunt,Karlsen was a disheveled teenage boy in dark,rumpled clothing, with cold grey eyes,well defined Nordic features,long black hair, and milky white skin that seemed to have never been caressed by the sun. With a quiet haughtiness, he was a rather taciturn,melancholic young man of a past shadowy and cold as the Norwegian hinterlands he came from. Cleverer than most, he also possessed immense physical strength, a fact unapparent thanks to his slender build, and frightening abilities, melting into the shadows and drawing forth the terror of blackest midnight in battle with a halberd crafted from darkness. With little interest in socializing, he was a recluse who hid away from the light of day and the warmth of human company, often for a hundred years. When forced to appear, he was cold in demeanour and sharp tongued,but today, he seemed indifferent to the world. He stared apathetically at the floor as he was glowered at by the judge,a blunt,large man who appeared so angered by the world,that by no reconciliation from it he would ever smile,and was pushed forward by the gremlin bailiffs,small creatures of the underbrush with pointed ears, small fangs,and impish grins.

"Really, I used to make way more people faint;I must be losing my touch," the boy said aloud,his voice a deep,soft bass ,and a chortle was heard from a woman in the jury.

“Oh, this is a crowning moment of glory for us, capturing perhaps the most wicked, the most unstable, and the most dangerous of the undead to ever be...urgh...born, so awful, it doesn't even deserve to be considered human, but, out of kindness, I shall do so in sentencing this freak. It has been almost a thousand years in the waiting, but we finally have it, and it can finally be brought to justice," the judge announced."Edgar Branvald Karlsen,a master of the darkness, your very existence was a mistake from the start, and is perhaps the most inexcusable crime in our history. It is bad enough you had seventeen years of life in this world, but when Death came to take your soul to Hell, you could not accept it, could you, and cheated not only death, but nature. If that is not enough, you were wrongly given excessive power, but also respect, raised to the same level as those weaker, but far more worthy."

Karlsen was not agitated not sorrowed by this, but rather, looked bored, glancing at his watch. and then the door.

" Look, I really have something to attend to, so, if you could wrap this up in the next ten minutes. You know how it usually happens; you spend a good portion of your time berating me and then spit out a sentence in the last thirty seconds. Come on, I've been doing this for centuries, I know how you work."

“Silence you idiotic boy!Did you deem us so imbecilic as to not recognize you??Did you think altering your appearance would conceal you from justice?!"the judge snapped, and with a wave of his hand, Karlsen's long,tangled raven hair was now the ashy blond colour he was born with.."Although I must say, your appearance is tolerable when you were covered in tar,for I did not get nearly as nauseous as I usually do by looking at you.We have waited in terror for over a millennia, and troubled by how to kill you, as those who cannot leave this world when called cannot be executed through conventional methods. Now, I wanted to keep you in that cell, it's specialized to sap away your strength temporarily, making you a lot easier to handle".

"That's nice, but-".

However,as,urgh,my warmer, yet softer peers have suggested, your dreadful existence can be allowed if you,at half the power you typically have,can discover and train some young Scouts to fight against the Vivo Columnaris,they have returned,you know..."

"Judge? I accept the challenge."

"Fine, though I prefer to see you hung. You won't be working alone, oh no, no more of the isolation you love. In this training, you will be partnered with Miss Octavia Adanech."

"Hvad?"he squawked.

"It's been a while,zombie boy,"the chortling woman from earlier smirked.Barely older than him, Octavia was a tall,corpulent,yet hansome girl of regal blood, with a dark complexion, wavy hair gleaming like polished onyx, and golden eyes flecked with copper and topaz, and he groaned.She was fashionably dressed in a beige coat, well tailored slacks,and a colourful scarf around her thick neck, her shoes madeofsoft leather and glossy underthelight of the courtroom. Proud and noble in spirit, she hailed from a kingdom of old in Africa as the daughter of a well bred, wealthy man, and perished gently in her sleep. Blessed with the strength of ten men and the talent of industrious spiders, she could craft webs of silk with her meaty fingers, poison a foe to death with an acerbic humour, brawl with her bare hands, and change form into a little weaving spider to scuttle about. Graceful and elegant in a mannish way, she was nonetheless imperfect. Brazen and headstrong,she was often spitting harsh curses with an obscene vernacular that would make a sailor blush in shame and raging with a frightening anger. Very few would foolishly dare to lay hands on her, for she could easily shatter the necks of her aggressors with a single hand.To the judge, she implored."When do we start and where are we going?"

" You'll be in the city of Brighton,where the Great Divide has deteriorated so much,there's an influx of preternatural activity that aggregates around the Mortis House. Your job is to find the Scouts we've detected in the vicinity, train them,and repair the barrier. Oh,and try not to get expelled from high school,either..." 

\---

"So this is the Mortis House of myth?"Octavia mused,munching on a biscuit from a small bag."We'll be setting up shop in there,huh?" 

After a few more words of instruction to Octavia and derision to Karlsen the trial was eventually dismissed,and the two had traveled to the Industrial Hearland of America just a few days later,settling in a pleasant city known as Brighton,where the border between the world of magick and the world of the mundane had collapsed. Once there, they had been enrolled in hogh school,Octavia as a senior with rather simple courses,and Karlsen as a junior with a much more rigorous schedule that included band of all things.Next,they were told to locate The House of the Mortis Family,with nobody to claim it but the name of the clan that once walked through it’s halls, and it had only taken a bit of asking to find the decrepit mansion of old. 

" The Mortis House of Brighton,Michigan said to be a homing beacon of sorts for preternatural activity,"Karlsen said,adjusting the straps of his rucksack and flipping through one of the bunches of pamphlets he had picked up." Interestingly enough,this house was built when the city was little more than a settlement, and on the outskirts of it as well,surrounded by dense wilderness and distant from any real hubs of commerce at the time,such as what is now Detroit. What's even more intriguing is the lack of information available pertaining to this sinister abode, whether Mundane or Magick; even the archives only turned up two or three articles about the house's construction and the death of young Viktor, no records of supernatural phenomenon at all. Either way, I can detect an unnatural presence;there's something lurking within the bowels of this manor that should not be unearthed." 

"You know, I have that feeling too, but I think it's just last night's pudding.Only one way to find out just what's in store for us,then,"Octavia decided almost cheerily,finishing the last of her biscuits and tucking it into her jacket pocket to discard later,then pushing the door open.."Coming?" 

Inside, all was dark and dank as the sharp crack of a match split the silent,somber air. A little kerosene lantern sent the small shadows into a rapid retreat,which he held over his head,shivering at the heavy,wet odor of it, as he and Octavia looked around the foyer. The sweepingly grand room was laden with plump blankets of dust, with a staircase torn in two leading to another floor,and under that, a metal door-”could it be real brass?” he thought, with pure copper handles,and a feast of bludgeoned insects whose backs gleamed green all over the room He could sense the ghosts pressing up against his skin, yet no fear came to mind as he inhaled the musky scent of myrrh and spice in the bear pelt on the floor . 

"Geez, look at all that dust. I would sure hate to have to clean this,"Octavia joked as she emptied batteries into her torch and turned it on. 

"Hold up, "Karlsen demanded, removing a small case from his and placing a pair of thick spectacles on his face, clicking the bridge three times." Interplanar spectacles,able to reveal objects concealed on different planes. Most Mundanes can detect beings on the first plane, while those capable of Magick can usually perceive things on the second,sometimes the third and rarely,the fourth and fifth planes, where some of the strongest magick occurs. They also correct vision problems,such as my myopia, and also have infrared, ultraviolet,x ray,and night vision modes."

" Where can I buy one of those?"

" Can't, I made them," he replied, pressing the bridge another two times."Aha! Somebody used a powerful concealment glamour on this house, see? "

"Not really, you have the glasses."

" You see those stairs leading to a balcony of sorts? That's all imaginary, you would fall through if you tried to ascend them. In place of it, there's two rolling ladders,similar to those found in a library...how curious..."

"Should be easy enough for me,all I have to do is spin a rope in spider form!"she quipped,and he rolled his eyes theatrically.

All those windows you see from the outside-they're fake! They're just sheets of glass with walls made of some sort of impenetrable material behind them," he said,knocking on a surface of solid,thick rock that was indeed, unbreakable,whether by blade or battering ram. " Now why have a window and cover it up? Do you intend to keep the sunlight out,or perhaps onlookers from witnessing something within,or..." 

He groaned as he saw Octavia ignoring him completely, instead enraptured by thousands of spiders with sleek black hair,curiously dull fangs. and eight purple, mischievous little eyes scuttling by her feet, and he began to twitch furiously.

"Alright! My kind of people!"

“Lovely,”her neurotic confederate groaned as the wretched creatures crawled up the walls to a cobweb dusted with plump flies."It's you,you're attracting them!"

"Oh,does that bother you,Karlsen? I can't help it if I'm simply more magnetic than you. Know what your problem is?You're always such a grump. If you were to just lighten up a bit-"

She glanced up to see that the _attengangar_ had moved on through the brass doors into a hall of shadows and down a staircase to the basement,and she scurried after him.The two walked down the corridor in a comfortable silence before she let out a groan. 

He rolled his eyes,yet complied and held his lantern aloft. In the orange glow, she looked down at her chest, seeing her skin and jacket broken by a steel blade, and grew as pallid as a youth of African blood could at the wisps of blood curling down her trunk."Oh my God..." 

“Interesting. This house has not been inhabited by anything alive since 1900, yet this rapier is made of stainless steel,which came about a few years later..."he said thoughtfully as he wrapped his bony fingers about the handle, and yanked it out, the hum of gurgling blood within the wound crushed by her shrill hissing and he then looked around, uplifting his lantern fearfully. 

The sable walls, bruised grey with time, were removed of all dust, unchafed and complete, but when she touched a sconce overhead, blades of a motley sort, the obtuse and dull, the acute and thin, knives and swords of the strongest forges were thrust upon them.Octavia yelped, trembling as she erected a silken shield around them, but it’s termination by a rapier moistened with human blood enabled a colossal axe head to wedge itself on her shoulder. She yelped, but by Providence’s hand, was struck by the blunter edge, and it fell off with great ease, leaving her skin mottled, bruises floating up below a patch of lividly pulsing blood. 

"A halberd! I have one just like this made of energy," he said appreciatively, giving it a few thrusts.“Why all these weapons if nobody, whether mundane or scout has stepped foot in here for decades? Ghosts are the only ones who dare take up residence here. " 

"I would suspect it's a sort of defense system devised long ago, perhaps to protect an awful secret and to drive out intruders,"she finished,glancing upwards,then squealing. As the ceiling burst asunder, the swooping slab of metal descending properly, almost having it’s process arrested by burying itself in Octavia’s ample flesh, had she not jumped away with a supple movement. 

“A-A!” 

“A guillotine blade. Perhaps it's most infamous use was to behead queen Marie Antoinette during the French Revolution," Karlsen said,eyeing the pendulum with interest before grimacing,for by accident or ill fortune, he came across something quite queer and offensive to the olfactory senses."Egads,what a stench!" 

"Wasn't me,"Octavia said, as she too gagged at the air, fouled by an unknown censer, and before them,in the middle of the stone floor lay a wide pit with a great, putrid stench, overflowing with a dark,reeking, claggy humor. 

“We definitely aren't alone,"he determined,dipping his fingers into the steaming, rancid pit, and withdrew it quickly. 

"Oh?" 

"While not scalding or even boiling, this substance is still fairly warm,indicating someone,possibly _something_ was here to heat it up,"he replied before suddenly losing his balance,spinning around,falling forwards and pitching headfirst into the quagmire with a squawk. 

“Karlsen!” Octavia cried as she boldly stuck her hands to reach his, not at all abashed at the stinking mire covering her forearms, and pulled the drenched,spluttering blond over the edge. 

“That just confirms it! I didn't fall on accident, I felt something push me,” he crowed,and spat out some of the fetid sludge."Definitely haunted, but why haven't any of the ghosts shown their faces yet? All their work has been invisible. I know they're here,though, ghosts of all sorts hanging around this house...I also have a feeling we aren't wanted here,and whoever has been causing all this trouble is only getting started,“he spat, before coughing once more and wiping some gunk from his eyes." Come hell or high water though,I _WILL_ get to the bottom of it!" 

"Not without me you won't. Like it or not,zombie boy, we're a team and we have to work together..."she huffed, jogging to catch up to the taller boy's longer strides. 

\----

"Aw come on,Curt! This is not how I envisioned spending the last day of summer vacation,traipsing around a dilapidated,abandoned mansion! I wanted to go fishing!" 

For onthe in your life, be a man, Adam." 

"I didn't ask you, Jakob! Besides, look at what happened to all the people who tried to stay here after Viktor Mortis passed away! There was that one lady who moved in and after one night,went insane,was put in an asylum,given a lobotomy,and lived as a vegetable for the rest of her life. Or what about those two guys who tried turning it into a tourist destination back in the 70's? Not even an hour and one was clawing hard enough at his skin to draw blood because he thought he was covered in insects and the other went completely blind after looking in one haunted mirror? Face it, nobody can step foot in the place without being completely terrified! Dunno about you, but I'm content with life as it is! " 

"Ah,thaddup,why doncha?" 

...the interior of the house is probably in horrible condition, the wood in the floor could be decayed and we could fall through, there could be squatters who took up residence in there and don't want us around, wild animals ridden with disease..." 

"Don't be thuch a worrywart all the time! Live a little!" 

"Cut it out you two, I'm trying to think!" 

At the words of their confederate and leader, the Wenderski brothers,two gangly,identical twin boys with hair and eyes the dull colour of mud, had been once more bickering in the fashion that two people who cared dearly about each other could. Jakob was a garrulous,enthusiastic young man with the heart of a lion and a particular Rust Belt cynicism towards the government and economy. The more prudent of the two, Adam was a clever,friendly,though skittish boy who was prone first to fright when confronted with trouble, and wasn't particularly fond of the unknown. As usual, he was devouring something to soothe his nerves, in this case, a greasy sack of potato crisps, the crumbs spattering his chapped lips.Curtis Van der Graf,the third boy and their mutual friend, was likewise tall for his age,though rather broad shouldered and burly enough that a ruder person might've called him fat. His most peculiar features were his eyes, one brown as a calf's and the other green as spring grass. Extraverted and cheery, he was somewhat famous among their peers for his creativity,bouncy spirits,and countless plans to have fun,and infamous for his temper and tenaciousness,but was probably most well known for his love of the unnatural and unexplained. He was convinced that preternatural phenomena was occurring all round them,always for him to take observation of. 

When he was as small boy on a family holiday in the park, he thought he had seen small,dancing women with glittering wings when he peered into a bush,but when he had dragged his parents and excited younger sister back to see the faeries, they had vanished.Later,when the television cut off during a broadcast on a temperate day with no atmospheric or electrical disturbance, he witnessed a handful of impish little creatures gnawing through the wires. Ghosts seemed to drift forlornly past him,only to dissipate if he turned his head to examine them closer, strange noises in the night seemed to preclude the passing of a supposedly nonexistent beast, bloody skirmishes in the inner streets of Detroit and Flint were fought not with lead bullet and switchblade, but with magickal abilities wielded by armoured warlocks and wizards, and once, he thought he had seen a flying saucer streaking across the midnight sky, blasting a cryptic code into the fields below in an alien tongue. As he had grown older and was susceptible to crueler children who mocked his fantastic beliefs, he had set aside this rabid fascination with the preternatural,though he still believed in all the old stories he had heard as a child, was still just as curious about the unexplainable. It was only coincidence that he had learned of a challenge to document paranormal activity for a certain monetary prize,and it was only natural that he had chosen the fabled Mortis house as his subject. p>

Out on a dirt road to the west of town,it was a vine encrusted building with dusty red bricks painted brown by snow and the elements,with a menagerie of plants in the streak of fertile earth running through the dry dirt, copper windowpanes and a hazy chimney that had held no smoke for a century.Sallow grey tree trunks were slathered in yellow sediment from the belly of an unknown, forgotten river, the flowerbeds a host to rampantly running weeds and thorn bushes indigenous to decay and rotted life, the corner of the grand, waxy white mausoleum,made of the finest,cleanest pure marble. poking from around the edge. It was a hexagonal building,with eternally white walls like those of a chapel, whose color was not dulled by the centuries, coffins of bronze stacked neatly inside,lit by an ugly glass hole in the ceiling that was slathered in wet ropes of vine, corpulent caterpillars hanging off of them.The Mortis house held the only private fish pond as well in the county,rumoured to be stocked with wonderfully large bass, sunfish, bluegills, yellow perch, muskellunge with gaunt snouts,and the fattest catfish, large as a man and ten times as heavy.

Local lore had it that Viktor Mortis was the final member of his bloodline, and the last person to hold the title of the estate,a man with a gaunt,black shadow, who, by the dates etched into the parchment in the town hall, lived to only be nineteen. He had lead a life that others didn’t know about, with a madness deep as a trench that was eating away at his brain, never leaving the dull, dark four walls around him until the day he died.It was said on the day he joined the dead,that all sensibility was finally driven to a halt, and that he charged forwards out of the door very much alive before sprawling out flat on the front porch, his life burning quickly as he descended into a very black pit of insanity leaving only a corpse. He was buried in the mausoleum by an anonymous worker, an oval portrait hanging in the city's library in memorial, the handsome youth with his pearly white skin, noble French features,thick brown hair,and deep green eyes rendered in oil for decades to come. However, his body had never been found... 

"About what? Finding young man Mortith'th body? Good luck with that,everybody knowth he was cremated," Jakob said, reaching down to tie his shoe. 

"You sure about that? I read that he may have had a secret love affair with one of his maids and so he faked his death so they could elope to Canada,"Adam replied,reaching for another handful of crisps." Well, in any case, we probably won't find anything but dust bunnies, but the fish pond in back looks promising, I wish I brought my rod. Either way, I don't fancy finding a corpse that's rotted away to nothing but a skeleton, you could say I have an aversion to bones that aren't covered by skin." 

"Alrighty...I got matches, film camera, tape recorder,my torch, mobile, some food, a water bottle, extra batteries, Swiss Army knife, 100 feet of rope capable of holding my weight,a notebook..."Curtis muttered,rummaging through his knapsack with his broad back to the others before turning and addressing his companions." This, gentlemen, is our Bible for the rest of the hour, a guide to all things supernatural, of mysteries with no logical explanation, of the unknown, the unseen, and will be put to use in proving once and for all, that the Mortis House of Old, is indeed haunted and netting the three of us $500 dollars in cash each!" 

" Where'd ya get something like that? I don't think Barnes and Noble exactly has a section called 'Ghostbusting 101 for amateurs." 

" You know Eirikur Godafrid? I mentioned that I was going ghost hunting in the Mortis House the other day in _Palan Suomi_ when he,Zöe Kowalski,Simon Lemieux,and Lenore Tähtinen were hanging out, and he started giving me all this advice on spirits,and this journal. Some of the stuff he came up with was pretty wild,too. And people say I have an imagination!" 

"I alwayth thought a lot of that wath jutht thome thort of Inuit thuperthtition or thomething," Jakob said, referring to a mousy,phlegmatic, studious boy their age who was nonetheless, a bit despondent and unmotivated,hiding shyly behind his round spectacles and the shadows of stack after stack of books. While not particularly close friends, they nonetheless got along very well and could enjoy each other's company. 

"So why didn't he come if he's so interested in this stuff?" 

"He had to work at the library until six. I should see him in school tomorrow, at least in Concert Band with you two, and then we can ask him more questions,"Curtis replied, raching for the door handle."Right now, I think the investigation has begun..." 

\--- 

While Octavia, cautious, never meant to step over the single hair, she did, and a sound no mortal could bear, a shrill, shivering blast so dense, this sharp, desolating scream followed, confessing them of curious, perhaps unwelcome, intent. 

“ Oh carp, what did I do?” she asked, as the walls sprung open once more, discharging tattered iron spikes, and began clamping shut with an odious creaking. 

“Crap!” she yelped. 

“Iron maiden,also an excellent band,” Karlsen huffed as the two dashed forward, and by benevolent fortune, around no flesh did the wall clench shut around. However, the floor right in front of them unhinged itself, yet this was leapt over simply, and the two tossed themselves to the floor at last, but the burly woman then groaned upon hearing the vulgar cackling, as three phantasms of no shame hovered around, crowned in loathsome shadow. 

“Oho! What do we have here? “the first, cooed, waving a pair of daggers excitedly. The only female spirit, she was a buxom little minx with indecently revealing clothes and pink hair."YES!There's a hot boy for Julchen Müller!"

“A couple of tiny humans who are either really stupid, or really brave, enough to break in?” the second, a young man of perhaps nineteen, with azure hair, answered, a weighty,blood smeared axe in his hand that no mortal man would ever lift."Either way, they should be fun for Wilhelm Müller to crush! I've gone so long without feeling blood on my hands, but wait!I'm a phantom! It passes right through me!"

“So any idea on who the blokes who like emo fashion are?” Octavia asked. 

“My dear lady,we are poltergeists! Restless,noisy spirits causing mayhem and mischief for the living! I am Michael Renaud of the Army of the Northwest,” the third, a bespectacled boy with green hair explained politely with a gentle smile,his hands alight with a verdant flame. “You may call me Schweinjaten,though,and this is my brother, Schierling and our sister, Hasel Verhasstgeist. You don't know how sorry we are,but we cannot allow intruders such as you to proceed any further. If you leave immediately, I'll try to restrain my more bellicose siblings from resorting to brute force. You truly seem like nice young people,too.Please? ” 

“Poltergeists?” 

“Indeed! However, we do not torment the people of the house, nor drive others to the point of suicide, nor create a ruckus. Besides, the master of our house is a LOT scarier than us....Oh no, no, no, we haunt the surrounding houses; you get a much funnier reaction." Schierling laughed. 

“Though, keep in mind, no gold, jewelry, or other riches catches our eye. We steal something that can be deemed much more valuable: Toilet paper,” Hasel said.” Brothers, what did the neighbours say?” 

"Yet it is still thievery and wrong. Stealing is a sin,did you ever hear the Ten Commandments? Number eight-Thou shall not steal," Schweinjaten said quietly, rubbing his arm and looking down." There is a difference between mischievous fun that hurts nobody and the acts you perform.depriving innocent people of their property..." 

I understand just a little of the twenty first century vocabulary, but it went something like this: _"Hey Fred, where’s the effing toilet paper?! I’m marooned! I need to drop some kids off at the pool!”_ Schierling recalled.

Karlsen and Octavia stared at each other, before she began laughing and he rolled his eyes.  
“You dare mock us?!Suffer our wrath!” Schierling yelled, and launched himself at them, yet discharged no blood as he slid through both of them.

"Are you truly that imbecilic that you cannot percieve that we are flesh and blood,unaffected by mere phantoms?Knock it off right now,that's an order,idiot poltergeist!"Karlsen spat,and to his surprise, the noisy spirit seemed to calm down.

"Oh look what we have here, an ugly revenant. You might be one of us,but we serve a different master who has yet to awake," Schierling spat with bitter obedience 

"Hey wait a minute…I recognize you! Octavia Adanech! You're a immortal!” Hasel said. 

"It is an honor for Scouts of such high calibrer to grace our humble household with your presense, and I don't mean to be rude, but you really mustn't stay.Sir,Ma'am,I'm afraid you're going to have to leave immediately"Schweinjaten said, his expression concerned." Really, it would take forever for Petunia to get the bloodstains out of the floorboards again, and really, there's no conventional means of killing you."

“Alright,we're leaving then,” Karlsen said calmly.

"Are you insane? Wait,don't answer that. You were ! Are you really going to spend a century in prison? Do you know what they do to pretty things like you?" Octavia shrieked,though she didn't see him reach into his jacket for something till he withdrew it. The tall blond shot a ball the size of a walnut at the ludicrous trio, within it room enough for a vast cloud of rotten smoke, and he set Octavia, now a fuzzy spider that could fit in his palm, upon his shoulder and ran. 

“Dummy! A smokescreen won’t work on us; we’re gas already!” Hasel said as she swayed aloft,aiming her dagger at them. Breivik produced another ball from his pocket, and let it burst on the floor, as tangy beads of spice clamored on the wooden floor. The three cried out in an archaic tongue, before choosing a modern vernacular. 

“S….SALT!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!” they wailed,trapped as their prey fled. “

Oh they have to listen to me whether they like it or not. You're probably too dim to realize this as an immortal, but the undead have a different set of laws they abide by. We're organized in a hierarchy, with the most lifelike at the very top. At the bottom are the transluscent spirits, with poltergeists on the higher end of the category. Each group though,must defer to the authority of the superior class,and being a restless,sentient spirit with a corporeal form that came back from beyond the grave makes me practically royalty," he said as they reached the foyer panting."There's still the hint of something sinister and undead here,and I'm going to find out what it is..."

"Well,I'm probably gonna get my laptop set up, maybe get on a dating site.I met my last boyfriend on the web,you know,"Octavia,suitcase in hand,said, striding towards a ladder leading to where,according to the map in Karlsen's book, the living quarters of the past inhabitants were." Don't forget,school on Tuesday!" 

" And I also have to make this manor habitable somehow. I grew up in much worse, but this still needs improvement if we're going to use it as a base" he said, scribbling into a notebook." There's an enormous supply of cheap labour in the form of the ghosts, and I'm going to need cement,wood,varnish,and nails to put in a set of stairs to the second floor, maybe some carpet to go along with it, the roof could use some fresh tar and shingles, we need plenty of dust rags and cleaning solution, there's likely vermin all over,so we require poison and traps,any electric wiring was done at the turn of the last century and is horridly outdated, it needs fresh paint,and I seriously doubt there's indoor plumbing. " 

Octavia paid him no attention,her broad back turned to him as she attended to something in the corner. 

"Why do I even bother talking? Nobody even hears me. Maybe I should just remove my vocal cords or go completely mute," he sighed before seeing the hundreds of spiders with magically glossy raven fur clamoring about her,eyes glinting with an unearthly rubicund light stretch far and tall to the ceiling. 

"Come on Karlsen,don't be such a drama queen! You're driving me up the wall! Remember,we have to work together whether you like it or not,so here,let me give you a hand...or eight..." 

\---

"Don't light a candle, there could be natural gas or something that's so heavily concentrated,it could easily ignite or suffocate us," Adam cautioned to no avail as Curtis held a match in one meaty palm and a candle in the other, then groaned when he heard the sharp crack and saw a sinewy flame twist upwards from the wick.A rancid smelling darkness further beyond that led to nothing their human eyes could perceive forced Adam's heartbeat to speed up to a nervous tempo, and he shoved his hand deeper into his bag of crisps, dismayed when he found it was empty. The timidest of glows from the softly lit the way for them as they admired the opulent foyer encrusted in grey dust and dark tarn, yet it was not strong enough to illuminate two sets of footprints leading ultimately to the basement, the remarkably white fog that now hung around them,nor the trickling columns of spiders with crumbs of dust in their tiny mandibles as they marched out the door. 

"Adam, the only lethal gath around here would be from Curt. Remember taco night at band camp?Bethideth,thith houthe wath built in the 1800'th." 

You think I'm bad? Samuel Lee Thibodeaux once gassed out a guy twice his weight in a wrestling match after downing a bowl of baked beans." 

" I read it in a book that they used natural gas derived from coal to light houses in the latter half of that century,though!" 

" Yah, and thith houthe probably hathn't had any gath pumped into it thince then!"

Unknown to them,a set of preternaturally acute senses observing the interlopers with a cruel curiosity. Though man was not it’s preferred meal,rather, it was venison and rabbit, the three youths before it were the nearest link to the deer it could attack savagely,eating the shreds of flesh one by one.

"Aright, Curt, what we lookin' for?"

" Well, Eirikur was kind enough to also gift me with a set of notes on the Mortis House and it's phenomena, and it says here that anyone bold enough to enter the house will feel at first, a sense of mild discomfort that slowly becomes anxiety, then finally, complete and utter terror. It also says that that last part is usually when visitors have an encounter with the unknown, usually a ghost or beast."

"Gee,come to think of it, I can't thake the feeling that I'm being watched by thome monthter hiding in the dark,." 

"And did it suddenly drop twenty degrees in here?" Adam shivered, for indeed, the stagnant warmth of late summer had succumbed to an eerie frigidness that felt as if their suft,supple flesh was being frozen layer by layer. He nearly leapt in the air at the sound of 

" Is it too late to bail? Roger Jörgensson's farm is just a mile down the road, he'd probably understand."

"Well,Roger has to help his dad with chores, so it's best that we don't bother him,"Curtis said as the beat of his heart leapt from the once steady cadence it held from a lurking sense of anxiety. Jakob shuddered just the slighest as with no creak, a doorknob above him seemed to twist though there was no hand clutching it. He then looked at his watch, which was " I'm starting to get the chills, and I'm loving it! Now let's see,according to Eirikur's notes, ghosts come in eight types based on appearance, six classifications based on ability, five levels of activity..."

" Hey Curtis?" Adam whimpered. " These ghosts..." 

"Yeah?"

"Do...do they look thomething like that thing behind you?"

\---

"Holy...did you hear that, Karlsen? That scream? Sounds like a banshee almost," Octavia said as a cry in the young evening startled her from her computer where she was perusing content of no value,and him from a weighty tome he discovered on one of the shelves in the parlor and now took interest in. 

" Eh, probably one of the lady ghosts or something," he replied, nothing in the world able to avert his eyes from the page he was browsing. 

" No,I know what I heard and that was definitely no ghost! Someone could be in this house and-oh no..."she gasped." What if it's one of those mortal boys I saw poking around the foyer earlier? Some of these ghosts aren't exactly Casper,and...please don't let it be true! We've gotta go help them."

" ...normal humans? Why didn't you mention that earlier?! The electromagnetic field detector's been pinging like crazy, indicating a powerful ghost,possibly a level 4 or 5! Do you know how much paperwork I'd have to fill out if someone died here?"

" Well I don't intend to find out," she replied, soft,sticky silk inbetween her chubby fingertips as she dashed towards the entrance/ 

"Moron,have you ever tangled with the undead before,or are you like other immortals who like to pretend we don't exist? Spirits can be fought and captured, but not in the way you expect," Karlsen said as he followed, and he reached for his jacket and pulled out a device covered in flickering dials and knobs. " A higher than average quantity of positive ions in the air, electromagnetic disturbances, and the temperature has decreased significantly...We indeed have a liche among our midst, and a rather violent one that can switch between corporeal and noncorporeal forms. _Oh,For Birginga riste broren runer!Kjære syster mi, skån meg!_ " 

"What's that mean?"

"Liches are a type of undead,dark sorcerer who desired immortality,usually by concealing their souls and humanity to a phylactery, and typically can control some of the more mindles hoards of the dead.They're also prone to incredibly destructive behaviour, and can be particularly hostile towards humans..."

"Great, what did we ever do to get Lord Voldemort in the house?"

\---

Bedight in a maelstrom of flaming bright light clustered about it, there was the emaciated form of a man whose only distinct features were hazy waves of blood spilling from fluttering wounds all over his black clothing,and not even the deftest gesticulation of the boys could escape his watch. Around them, the rest of the room was the dusky hue of thick, dark coal buried deep in a mine shaft, the fervent shadows swirling about. 

"I can't believe it! It really happened! How many other fourteen year olds can say they've seen an honest-to-God ghost in person?! And better yet, we'll have proof!" Curtis exclaimed gleefully."Dudes,where'd I put my camera? Eirikur is gonna _flip_ when he sees this!" 

"CURTIS!!!WE'VE COME FACE TO FACE WITH A POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS GHOST AND YOU TREAT IT LIKE IT'S SOME SORT OF ACCOMPLISHMENT??DO YOU WANT TO DIE AT AGE 14 THE DAY BEFORE HIGH SCHOOL??!! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!!!" A hysterical Adam shrieked with a grim accusation that, when the ghost had devoured him, his body would be marred so greatly."I DON'T CARE, I'M NOT STICKING AROUND HERE LONGER THAN I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO! 

Running fast enough to shatter records by elite athletes, Adam had dashed out the door in ten seconds. 

"Dude, I'm never making fun of your creepy hobby ever again if we leave right now," a stalwart, yet stunned Jakob whispered right as the liche swept through him. Now, the seemingly cavernous,ethereal entrails of the undead are sadly,unstudied, for most scholars of the reanimated are both wise and prudent enough to leave particularly belligerent specimens alone,and because the average disembodied spirit would rather avoid sullying their vaporous figures by swooping through the gummy hot flesh of mortals,for it tended to impede their travels on this lower pane of existence. However, the mysterious anatomy of the liche managed to render the courageous brunet unconscious,and he would've crumpled to the floor if Curtis hadn't caught him.

" _"Oh crap..."_ " he thought as his dear friend of was felled by the spirit.Curtis,once eager and enthralled by the notion of contacting the spirit world was now apprehensive,thinking he had been perhaps too hasty in his decision,and worse, he was unable to lift his feet from where he stood in fear , Jakob hanging loosely in his arms and Adam long gone. _"...ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap...."_

What happened next was a most unfamiliar, unthinkable event, that could not be trapped by a human tongue. When he was to recount it later, he found himself apologizing fervently for describing it in such a mundane manner. Two figures swathed in shadows leapt from the balcony aloft and began to strike the spirit before it bore down on Curtis.

A taller boy-Curtis watched awestruck through his fingertips to see a long,ash blonde ponytail and a glimmer of amber eyes, as with a shot of sticky white string and a jab of a black polearm as long as a man, the ghost was tied and impaled with a shrill bellow.At once,slabs of luminous, vermillion blood torn from where they rested gushed from all over the spectre, which was writhing in it's death throes while howling a lament in an ancient,perhaps unhuman tongue as it was yanked by an unseen hand into a small glass jar.

"Containment of a bellicose liche successful, Adanech" the blonde figure said, tucking it into his jacket." 

Jakob now awoke,rubbing his eyes blearily. 

" Alright, our troublemaker has been contained,but when I was examining it,I found that the liche is not of Earth, meaning..." 

My Lord,what happened to _YOU_??" 

Karlsen had returned from somewhere in the shadowy bowels of the house with his clothing torn and singed, a bloody,gaping cut on his right hand deep enough to expose the white bone beneath, and what looked to be gashes from thousands of claws on his face. However,he seemed rather content in his endeavor,and was wrapping his hand in bandages he fished out from his knapsack. Octavia was less than pleased,however.

"Let me guess,somebody in another realm, probably one of those more obscure ones, like 23-//:8, opened a portal and let it loose here?"Octavia said grimacing at his condition,though by the next day, he would be healed completely. 

He opened his mouth as if to voice a contradictory opinion,but decided against it and merely said," In any case, I managed to pacify Dolph- 

"Dolph? "

", You know, the liche,and now he's quite tame, but still,could you imagine what would happen? Those stupid kids were fortunate to survive an attack like that,and as a relief for us,any memories of the event they may possess will be erased almost instantly and replaced with a much more logical story, such as an animal attack combined with an overactive imagination and wracked nerves.It also spares me about 500 pages of paperwork and a report,and saves the Memory services from having to come down and reset their memory,but..." 

"But what? Just what _ARE_ you doing down there,coming up looking like you've been through a meat grinder?" 

"...nothing. Well,I'm going to go poke around in the basement a bit more. Don't bother coming to look for me," he said curtly, turning his back on her with a dark expression, halberd in his bandaged grip.

"Why?"

"Oh nothing, but I think I just figured out why this house was built..."

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://chaosgirl13.deviantart.com/gallery/61201180/The-Greatest-Show-Unearthed  
> Art can be found here, and will be updated!!!  
> Some sources:  
> http://paranormalghostsociety.org/ghosts.htm  
> http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread668161/pg1  
> http://www.angelsghosts.com/8-classifications-of-ghosts.  
> The Mortis House is based on several haunted houses, but it's real life counterpart would be something like this,but larger.  
> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/25/a2/3c/25a23c5934e170645cbb360ec105df21.jpg
> 
> As for what an attengangar is? An undead being,a restless spirit with a corporeal form who is unable to move on to the afterlife due to unfinished business on earth.


End file.
